


Dominant Traits

by unfolded73



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, F/M, Facials, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-18
Updated: 2009-05-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21791338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: Rose asks the Doctor to try something new. PWP.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Dominant Traits

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published May 18, 2009. Notes then: Written for editrx, because she's having a hell of a day and needs distractions. This may not have been done in time to provide her with distraction when she needed it most, but I figure a little more filthy smut over the next few days can only be of the good, yeah? ladychi and I were chatting the other night about how some people see the Doctor as a dom and some see him as a sub. This fic doesn't really say anything profound on that topic, it's just what came to mind when I was mulling that over.
> 
> Notes today: Making one more push to archive all the stray fics that I never posted here on ao3.

It came out, as these things do, after a few glasses of wine.

Rose wiggled her toes against the Doctor's thigh, settled comfortably as she was in one corner of the sofa. He leaned over to refill his glass, and when Rose said, "You should be more dominant in bed," he spilled some of the wine on the coffee table.

"I should ... _what?_ " He was a little bit tipsy, but he was fairly sure they had been talking about the latest episode of _Ashes to Ashes_ and not about sex. He would know if they had been talking about sex, he was certain of it. 

"I'd like it if sometimes, you were dominant in bed." She took another sip of her wine. "You know."

He didn't know. In fact, he was feeling just a tiny amount of panic at the idea that he might not be pleasing Rose sexually. Human sexuality was something he'd had to adjust to, and he'd been more than grateful that Rose was such a patient, thorough teacher. Now it sounded like she was saying that allowing her to take the lead had been a mistake.

Rose seemed to see the fear in his eyes. "I'm not saying I don't like what we do. I _love_ what we do." She set her wine glass on the table and crawled over, straddling him on the sofa. "You're very talented in bed." She combed her fingers into his hair and the Doctor's eyes fluttered closed. "It just might be fun to do something different occasionally."

"What sort of thing?" he murmured, seeking out her lips to kiss her, but she evaded him.

"Sometimes I just want you to, you know." She flushed. "Have your way with me. Tell me what to do. Tell me to fuck you, or ... or whatever you want."

A jolt of pure desire shot down to his groin, and he grabbed her hips, pressing her down against his rapidly growing erection. Rose moaned, rotating her pelvis in a slow grind against him. The Doctor's heart pounded. He supposed that if she had brought it up in her inebriated state, she wanted him to be dominant now. _In vino veritas_ and all that.

He gently pushed Rose off his lap and she stood up. "Take your clothes off," he said, surprised by the huskiness of his voice. "Please," he added.

Rose smiled indulgently. "You don't need to say please. It defeats the purpose." She was wearing a tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirt, and she peeled it off over her head, tossing it aside. Her bra was beige, simple; what he was sure she considered a piece of utilitarian underwear. He gazed at the creamy skin of her breasts, the parts of them he could see, and he bit his bottom lip. She was so sexy.

Her hands fell to the button of her jeans and she slowly unbuttoned them and lowered the zip, revealing white cotton knickers. The exaggerated shimmy of her hips as she took her jeans off made him that much harder. His hand went to his lap and he adjusted himself, his trousers tight against his cock. Rose stepped closer to him, her hands going behind her back. A moment later and her breasts were bare, and then she was stepping out of her knickers, letting them pool on the floor. Her entire body was revealed to him, and he considered grabbing her and throwing her on the sofa, fucking her with long, hard strokes until he came. He was starting to see the appeal of dominating her this way.

"Come here." He gestured to the sofa. "Lie down." She did readily, her knees up and spread for him, and he caught the scent of her arousal. The Doctor reached out and touched the concave of her stomach, slowly stroking down between her legs. The tips of his fingers brushed over her clit and she gasped. He had a perfect vantage point on her cunt, on how wet she was already, and without hesitation he plunged two fingers inside her. Her hips came off the sofa, and he shook his head. "Be still."

He worried for a moment that the commands were too much, but the lazy smile she gave him was a reassurance that this was what she'd had in mind. He pulled his fingers out and pressed them back in, harder and deeper, enjoying the moans that his actions elicited. He maintained a steady rhythm in and out of her but didn't touch her clit again. Rose held obediently still, but after a while he could read the frustration on her face, a need for the more direct stimulation that he wasn't giving her. He added a third finger to the ones that were thrusting inside her over and over, and Rose cried out, throwing her head back. "Please ..." she gasped.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"Wanna come."

He pulled his fingers out of her and she moaned at the loss. The Doctor reached out and touched first one breast, then the other, teasing her nipples and painting her skin with the moisture still coating his fingers. Again he trailed his hand down her abdomen, but lifted it away completely before he reached the dark patch of hair between her legs. Rose whimpered. "Touch yourself," he said. "I want to see you make yourself come."

Rose's eyes went slightly wide, but her hand slipped down between her legs without any obvious reluctance. She spread her labia, fingers dragging through her wetness and then up to her clit. She made small circles against the small nub of skin, and her pelvis began to move again. Eyes closed and bottom lip between her teeth, Rose began to masturbate in earnest, her breath coming in soft gasps on every inhale.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," he asked gruffly, giving his aching cock a quick rub through his trousers before resting his hand on one of her knees, moving it to get a better view.

"You. Your tongue," she responded.

"You like it when I make you come with my mouth, don't you?"

"Yes. God, yes." She moaned long and low, her hand moving faster. "I do this when you aren't here. And I imagine your mouth on me."

"Oh, Rose," he groaned. 

She cried out, her hips stuttering against her hand. "Close ... I'm close."

He thrust his fingers back inside her just as her orgasm hit her and she screamed, pelvis bucking as she rode out the ecstasy of her release. He didn't stop moving his fingers inside her, enjoying the way she felt inside after she'd climaxed. Finally she opened her eyes.

"Tell me what to do next," she said, smiling even as her eyelids fluttered with the pleasure he was still giving her.

"I ..." He hesitated, unsure what to ask for, unsure if the game was supposed to continue or if the rules were now different. He was nervous; it was one thing to tell her to do something that brought her pleasure. It was quite another to order her to service him, for lack of a better phrase.

Rose sat up and put a hand on his cock, caressing him through his clothes. He saw with a small amount of embarrassment that pre-come had left a wet spot where his penis was pressing against his trousers. "How do you want me to please you?" Rose asked softly, leaning into his chest and kissing his neck.

The Doctor groaned. "Suck my cock," he said. A part of him wanted to just fuck her, to sink inside her exactly where his focus had been directed for the last several minutes. On the other hand, she was so skilled with her mouth, and the orgasms he had from oral sex were like no others. 

Rose slid off the sofa onto her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Realising that he was still fully clothed, the Doctor stood and started to unfasten his trousers. Rose pushed his hands away and took over, her knuckles pressing against his erection as she dragged the zip down. The Doctor quickly unbuttoned his shirt and parted it, but left it on. His feet already bare as hers had been, he stepped out of his trousers and pants easily.

Hands ran up his thighs, and then she leaned forward and took the head of his cock between her lips, tongue tracing a complex pattern over him. "More," he moaned, fingers pressed against the side's of Rose's face. "Take it all." Obediently, she opened her mouth and swallowed him as deeply as she could, pressing down with her lips as she pulled back then sucking him all the way in again. Her hand came up and two fingers circled the base of his cock, the rest of her hand caressing his balls. The Doctor let his hands slide into her hair as she maintained her steady pace. "Fuck," he said helplessly.

Rose moaned around him. The Doctor looked down at her, at the crown of her head as it moved on his cock, at her breasts and hips and feet. He felt a coiling pleasure at the base of his spine, his orgasm approaching. He wondered if he'd be able to remain standing once it hit him full force. Rose sped up; she could probably feel it, the way he got impossibly hard right before he came. 

An image suddenly flashed in his mind, and before he could second guess it, the Doctor pulled out of her mouth. He gripped his cock in a fist, pumped once, twice, and came, letting it hit her chin and chest. He was barely aware of the guttural grunts that issued from his throat as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm, watching his come run down Rose's breasts.

She was looking at him, her expression inscrutable, and as his climax bled away, it was replaced by a flash of shame. "Sorry. I'm sorry," the Doctor said, whipping his shirt off and offering it to her to clean herself up. Rose took it, but before using it she ran a finger across her chin and popped it into her mouth, sucking and watching him with sparkling eyes. Wiping off her chest as she stood up, Rose dropped the shirt on the floor and wrapped her arms around him. 

"Don't apologize. That was ... wonderful. Perfect."

"It was?" He felt a bit light-headed, and pondered the etiquette of collapsing to the floor after an earth-shattering orgasm like that one.

Rose just nodded. "I knew you could do it, if I gave you a bit of prodding." She grinned. "And I knew you'd love it."

He blushed. "I suppose I did ... love it ... a little." He cupped her face in his hands. "But not every time."

"No," she agreed. "Not every time. Variety is the spice of fucking." She barked out a laugh at her ridiculous turn of phrase.

The Doctor laughed along with her. "You should embroider that on a throw pillow." With a giggle, Rose turned to leave the room. Impulsively, as he followed her down the hall, the Doctor gave her a smack on the bottom.


End file.
